Banquet Words
by snowywolf7
Summary: It's a beautiful night at the Barcelona Grand Prix banquet, but the mood turns tense when Yuuri is approached by a stranger making unwanted advances. However, Yuuri will be reminded that Viktor is not the only person who learned their "L" words from him.


**What has this anime done to me? Second story in for YOI in a month with other plot bunnies bugging me, I'm ruined (but happily so). Still not very comfortable writing romance but I hope this is an okay contribution to this beautiful fandom ^_^**

 **Warning - This story does feature unwanted sexual advances, nothing explicit but if you're sensitive proceed with caution.**

 **Disclaimer - Don't own anything, only thing I profit from this story are the warm and fuzzies.**

The banquet lights were bright and the tinkle of glass and cheerful voices loud. Last year the simple presence of so many people to witness Yuuri's shame would have driven him into the dim corner to nurse his devastation with sixteen chutes of bubbling champagne, but his year was different. This year Yuuri didn't enter the large ball room with his head ducked and eyes transfixed for the floor, nor was Celestino attached to his arm dragging him forward with the stubbornness of a Spanish Fighting Bull. This time there was someone quite different attached to his arm. A steady warm presence that kept Yuuri's head high and face bright when the double doors swung open to reveal the grinning faces eager to congratulate the 2015 Barcelona Grand Prix silver medalist.

Yuuri waved and smiled at the many compliments, even stopping to take a few pictures which he couldn't even have dreamed of doing the previous year. Through all the clamor and whirlwind of acknowledgment Yuuri never let his arm loop out of the proffered limb of Viktor Nikiforov. In fact his coach was beaming even more brightly than Yuuri himself as if he was trying to blind the entire room. Yuuri personal thought Viktor was succeeding.

"Isn't my Yuuri incredible?" He launched at anyone within earshot pointing emphatically at the shining disc displayed on his protégé's chest. Yuuri had been adamantly against wearing the medal but one look at the glistening blue depths had him agreeing far too quickly than Yuuri liked. "Silver medal in just one season, and next year he'll definitely be getting gold."

"Viktor!" Yuuri protested lightly but nothing could deter his proud coach.

"Like there's any gold for piggy's to chew on." The Ice Tiger of Russia had finally appeared.

"Yurio." Yuuri greeted brightly. "Congratulations on the gold, your performance was amazing." He complimented brightly. The blond teen huffed, glancing to the side.

"Well your program wasn't bad either." Yuuri blinked recognizing the praise for what it was and gave the skater an appreciative smile.

"Congratulations to both of you for breaking my record. As your coach and choreographer I can't be prouder." Viktor beamed at the two men before him. Leaning closer to Yuri he whispered. "But as a competitor I can't let it stand." He said giving a conspiratorial wink. The teen's eyes widened.

"So it's true. You're coming back?" Viktor didn't reply, instead he just brought his index finger to those soft lips making a shushing gesture. The usurper skater's green eyes narrowed at the challenge, his face now burning with eager anticipation.

"I'll kick both your asses." He declared, gulping down the clear liquid in his glass and slamming it onto a table for effect before stomping off to join a stoic Kazakhstan skater. Yuuri glanced up at Viktor, his brilliant blue eyes glittering with so much excitement and joy the Japanese man thought his heart might have skipped a beat.

The entire glamourous party made the experience even more surreal. He had really made it onto the podium of the Grand Prix final. He had shared the ice with some of the most incredible skaters and people Yuuri ever had the privilege to meet. And best of all, Yuuri reminded himself, was the man standing beside him, body pressed close enough to feel his warmth seep through layers of fabric. The living-legend himself who, out of all the people in the world, had somehow chosen Katsuki Yuuri. Thinking about all of it was enough to make the skater's head swim so instead Yuuri leaned towards Viktor to nuzzle his nose into the crook of the man's neck. He could feel the vibrations of a pleased purr as the taller man turned to bury his own face in Yuuri's hair.

"May I have this dance?" Viktor asked sliding his arm from its interlocked position to loop it around Yuuri's slender waist. Instead of giving a verbal response Yuuri locked his right hand with his lover's left and swung him in one smooth arc right onto the dance floor. The pearly peal of laughter was the best reward Yuuri could ever hope for as they glided across the polished floor as easily as on the ice.

Even though he couldn't recall their previous dance Yuuri knew the one they shared now was a hundred times better. The music guided their bodies sending them into the close spins and dips of a sensual tango. He could feel every beautiful curve of Viktor's body and every ghost of breath from his laugh when their faces nearly touched. It was almost a tragedy when the melody thinned to silence leaving the two panting but with the brightest of smiles gazing into each other's eyes.

"I don't ever want to forget his night." Yuuri whispered. Viktor took a step back raising Yuuri's right hand to his lips as he did so.

"You better not. I could never forgive the man who made me fall in love and forgot about it twice." He responded, brushing feather light kisses on the pale knuckles letting the last kiss linger on the golden ring he had slipped onto Yuuri's finger. The smile and flush came unbidden as Yuuri focused extremely hard on not letting any emotional tears leak in such a public venue.

Phichit saved him from his inner struggles when the Thai skater crashed into his best friend with phone already poised for a selfie.

"Phichit!" Yuuri cried as the flash went off blinding him temporarily but his friend's fingers were already typing away.

"And…post!" He announced cheerfully grabbing Yuuri's hand and spinning the man once around. "As much as I _love_ watching you and Viktor dance I have to point out you haven't danced with your best friend tonight yet Yuuri." Phichit complained with half a pout.

"I'm amazed Celestino hasn't taken your phone yet." Yuuri said eyeing the offending piece of technology.

"Oh he did! I stole it back when he got drunk." At the same time Viktor caught Chris's eye and waved at his Swiss friend.

"Go have fun Yuuri, I'm going to go say hi to Chris." Before Viktor stepped away Yuuri caught his tie pulling their foreheads together.

"Just don't forget who you're going home with tonight." He whispered giving the tie a gentle tug as a reminder.

"Oh I wouldn't dare." The radiant smile nearly split Viktor's face as the man half skipped over to where his friend was waiting with a teasing smirk and a glass of champagne in hand. Yuuri turned to Phichit only to see his friend's back with a phone raised above his head. Yuuri's face immediately heated far beyond safety limits as he desperately reached for the mobile being kept out of his reach.

"Don't you dare post that Phichit!" He nearly begged.

"I promise I won't if I get that dance you promised." Phichit's wrist was promptly grabbed and led onto the dance floor for a much more playful and informal waltz.

The two friends danced and laughed for a few songs before Yuuri was forced to retreat the pair to a corner table to cool down. Sweat glistened on the skaters' brows but both were still full of exuberance.

"Ah there's Sala and Michele." Phichit said excitedly pointing at the twins. "Wanna come join us?" Yuuri shook his head emptying the glass of water he managed to snatch from a passing caterer.

"I think I'm going to go find Viktor."

"Worried he might catch someone's eye?" Yuuri tried to swat half-heartedly at his friend but Phichit easily ducked out of the way still wearing that teasing smirk. The Japanese man could only smile, watching his friend blaze his way across the room to greet the Italians enthusiastically.

Yuuri turned to place his glass on the clothed table before spinning back around to begin his search for his silver haired skater. Instead of twisting into air however Yuuri's shoulder collided hard with the broader frame of another man.

"Oh I'm so sorry, are you okay? I should have looked." Yuuri quickly apologized, backing up several paces. Yuuri didn't recognize the man he had bumped into. He was taller than him by a head and much broader too. His face was handsome but in a completely different way than Viktor. His faced was weathered, with sharp edges and lines that were complimented by short cropped black hair. While Viktor's beauty reminded Yuuri of the most ethereal winter snowfall, this man reminded Yuuri of the rugged sturdiness of a mountain.

Instead of brushing off the encounter or admonishing his carelessness, as Yuuri had expected, the man took a step forward forcing the shorter man to take another pace back putting his back almost against the wall.

"Well aren't you a cute little thing." He commented leaning far enough to violate a respectful distance. The stranger's eyes roamed from Yuuri's face down across the length of his body then back up again, a smile spreading as he did so.

"Uhh. I…" Yuuri stuttered feeling increasingly uncomfortable and wanting nothing more than to escape back onto the dance floor.

"Dance with me." It wasn't a request. Yuuri took a deep breath stilling his hands and meeting the man's grey eyes with determination.

"I apologize but I'm not interested." He said as politely but coldly as he could. Yuuri stepped out to the left away from the man but a thick arm shot out stopping him in his tracks. Startled by the loud noise of flesh meeting wall, the skater backed into the wall back now completely pressed against the unyielding material. The man splayed his hand against the wall, leaning in to corner Yuuri between him, the table, and ball room wall, destroying any semblance of personal space.

"You think you're too good for someone like me?" The man's voice was now laced with anger as he grabbed the silver medal around Yuuri's neck and pulled hard. He could smell the reek of alcohol on the other man's hot breath even as he tried to pull back causing the white ribbon to dig painfully into the sensitive skin of his neck. A knot formed in Yuuri's gut causing his previously light heart to beat constrictingly fast.

"Let go." He demanded doubly his efforts to pull away. The iron grip on his medal was suddenly released sending Yuuri crashing back, jarring his body harshly. He was ready to breathe a sigh of relief when Yuuri saw the hand inches away from his temple. The fingers were no longer splayed but curled into a tight fist, knuckles white against the banquet lights.

Before the smaller man could so much as utter another syllable the other man's knee slammed into the wall right next to Yuuri's leg and the broader chest was pressed to his own as a suffocating weight. He could hear the pump of blood in his ear ebbing and surging in sync with his rapid heartbeat. His breaths were coming far too fast and too short.

"The little mouse is skittish." The voice no longer bore any trace of friendliness. It sent cold shivers down Yuuri's spine, chilling his blood and sending a tremor into his fingers. Not caring about politeness anymore Yuuri pushed with both hands trying to physically remove his aggressor. But it was to no avail. The man before him was much more firmly planted but it did provoke a reaction. The hand previously resting on the wall dropped to restrain Yuuri's shoulder painfully. The other hand reached up to clutch at his jaw leaving crescent imprints in the smooth skin. The grip was nothing like the gentle, supportive hold Yuuri was use to, this one was harsh and meant only for control. Yuuri hated it, hated this man and his touch, his struggles turning desperate in the rough hold.

In a flash chapped lips were against his, pushing hard enough to be painful. The building unease erupted into full blown panic as Yuuri tried to twist away, the protest turning into muffled cries against the encroaching lips. A sudden glint of white in his vision and the pressure was released. Yuuri fell backwards clutching the table like a lifeline to support his weight. A loud thud alerted him that the man who had just been pressed against him was now lying on the floor supporting himself with one hand brushing away the trickle of blood dripping from his nose.

"Don't you _ever_ , try to touch Yuuri again!" A familiar voice growled but the sound was tinted with something Yuuri had never heard before, fury.

Staring in shock his brain registered the fact that the figure standing between Yuuri and his attacker was none other than Viktor Nikiforov. The Russian skater looked angrier than Yuuri had ever seen before, his eyes narrowed to chips of ice and his fist clenched so hard at his side they were shaking. It wasn't until Yuuri saw the red swelling on Viktor's knuckles that he realized Viktor had _punched,_ actually physically assaulted someone, to defend him.

The man struggled up from the floor his face livid. The grey eyes locked onto blue, the glint in them promised retribution. Before he took one step towards Viktor a hand gripped the man's bicep holding him in place.

Yuuri realized that in the few seconds it took for Viktor to take a position between Yuuri and his assailant Christophe had circled behind to restrain the man, though the look in Viktor's eyes seemed to be daring the Swiss skater to let the man go.

"For your own good I suggest you leave without further fuss." Christ warned. Yuuri never heard the cheerful man sound so cold. The stranger looked like he was seriously considering taking both Chris and Viktor but then he noticed they weren't alone.

"The fuck do you think you were doing bastard?" Yuri Plisetsky snarled, standing slightly to the side of Viktor wearing his fiercest, most genuine scowl. The title Ice Tiger of Russia was well earned. Behind him was the dark haired Otabek Altin arms crossed and lips pressed in a firm line. Yuuri felt a gentle hand fall on his shoulder.

"Are you okay Yuuri? Did he hurt you?" The comforting voice of Phichit calmed Yuuri's racing heart as his friend pulled his phone out to contact the authorities. First frustration, then bitter resignation passed over hard grey eyes. The man yanked his arm out of Chris's grip but made no move towards anyone present.

The security officials arrived quickly to cuff and escort the man off the premises after receiving corroborating statements from all the skaters and onlookers. If on his way out, Yuri stuck a leg out causing the top heavy man to trip and smash his forehead in to a table the only reaction it garnered was a slight twitch of Otabek's lips. It wasn't until he could no longer see the retreating figure that Yuuri turned to properly address his fiancé. Viktor's arms had never left Yuuri's shoulder stilling the slight tremor the Japanese man hadn't even notice was there.

"Viktor thank you, but you shouldn't have done that." Yuuri began concern overflowing as he cupped the bruised hand in his own for closer examination. "What if he had come after you? What if he had hurt you?" All the horrifying scenarios involving a brawl between the two men and career ending injuries flashed through Yuuri's mind faster than a freight train. To his surprise Viktor pulled his body forward wrapping it in his own for a desperate embrace. His grip was much tighter than normal but Yuuri hugged back with equal strength trying to reassure his lover that he was indeed present and unharmed.

"I don't care." Viktor declared. "I couldn't live with myself if you had been hurt. I should have been watching you, he never should have been able to get so close." Yuuri blinked as he felt damp drops fall on his head. He pulled back to wipe away the crystalline tears falling from cerulean eyes.

"Like we would have let him get anywhere close." Came a rough and irritated voice. "Only I get to kick your asses." Yuuri had to grin at the teen leaning casually against a table glaring at the pair with the ever silent Kazakh skater giving a nod of assent.

"He's right. We look out for each other right?" Chris added with a wink. Phichit nodded showing a rare display of solemnness. Yuuri might have managed to stem the flow of liquid from Viktor's face but he could feel a burning prickling sensation behind his own eyes now. The realization that everyone standing there with supportive smiles on their faces, or scowl in Yurio's case, had risked their safety to protect him made Yuuri's heart clench. But the sensation wasn't entirely unpleasant.

He wasn't fighting alone, none of them there were. Strong arms circled around, pulling him gently to lean into a familiar chest. He could feel the steady beat of Viktor's heart through his silk shirt. Endearing lips press themselves against Yuuri's cheek warming his entire body with the small touch.

"I'm not the only one who got their 'L' words from you Yuuri." A smile tugged at his lips until it became a full grin. Yuuri turned to look at the face he so loved, leaning up to give his fiancé a tender kiss feeling a smile stretch the sweet lips.

"Dance with me." The request ghosted over Viktor's ear like a summer breeze.

"Forever."


End file.
